


they are mine

by Lil_Redhead



Series: Mini CS One shots [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Captain Charming - Freeform, Captain Snowing, Captain Swan - Freeform, F/M, Post 5B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Redhead/pseuds/Lil_Redhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian is still trying to deal with his emotional pain after returning from the underworld and all he needs is a motherly touch. Takes place after 5B season finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they are mine

Killian Jones could not remember what a motherly touch felt like.

For hundreds of years, it really hadn’t mattered. What he thought had been acceptance of his lack of family was really just a mask of thievery and pillagery. As soon as he deposited that lifestyle in the waste bin in exchange for the hero’s life, Killian felt himself with a subconscious desire to be held by his mother.

Most days, being held by his true love was enough. There was just something about her touch that managed to reach into the depths of his soul and ease every single one of the aches and pains lying inside his heart. Her love was capable of numbing the darkest of his sufferings and strong enough to pull him back home to her.

He was even starting to think that he was okay again. He was wrong.

Because Emma’s love numbed the throbbing in his heart, but the moment she left his side, he was left to flounder in his own thoughts.

So naturally, when Emma took a trip to be a witness in court for a crime that happened before she moved to Storybrooke, Killian felt a little disoriented.

“Listen, I’ll only be gone for a day or two. As much as I want to take you with me, I really need you to stick around here and help David look for Hyde,” she told him before she left.

Killian wanted to ask _what happened to not being separated ever again?_ But he was just starting to do better. Asking that would be like holding up a sign that said “Please don’t leave me, I’m suffocating in my own fears.” He’d die before making her worry more.

In retrospect, he could’ve just talked to her about it - the pain of his guilt, his torture, his past - instead of simply letting it fester. But Emma was just starting to see Dr. Hopper and the last thing she needed was to add Killian’s (almost too heavy) emotional baggage on top of her own.

So she left in her yellow bug after a warm parting kiss, leaving Killian leaning against the victorian styled column of their porch. When she was out of sight, he ran a hand over his scruff and took a deep breath.

What was he going to do?

“Come have dinner with us!” David insisted that day at work. Apparently, that was what he was going to do.

“I appreciate the thought, mate, but you and Snow have finally gotten the house to yourselves with Emma moved out. I couldn’t intrude on your time together,” Killian replied, barely looking up from his paperwork.

“Snow insisted I bring you to dinner tonight. Please don’t make me have to tell her you turned us down for an empty three bedroom house.”

It was settled then. Killian tried not to let his relief show on his face as he buckled himself into Dave’s truck. Perhaps some time with his new family would serve some good on his ailing heart.

*

Dinner was nice. The Charmings inviting him to spend the night in their loft so he wouldn’t have to be alone was ever nicer.

It was almost like they knew. Then again, Snow was a mother. Killian wasn’t sure exactly what kind of mystical powers mothers were given in terms of perceptibility to a family member’s aching, but it had to be powerful. He’d seen it in Emma, Snow, Regina, even Zelena (much to his utter surprise).

So that night the Charmings placed baby Neal in his crib. Snow dropped a kiss to their son’s head, sweet and tender. Watching from the couch, Killian imagined how many times his own mother got to press her own kisses to his forehead when he was a baby.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize Snow was making her way over to him. When she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, he looked up and muttered, “Good night, highness.”

Her lips lifted in a gentle smile, then dropped his the crown of his head.

“Get some sleep Killian If you need anything, don’t hesitate to wake us up,” she spoke to him in a low gentle tone.

It was unsure how long Killian sat there after Emma’s parents shut themselves behind their door. The last time he had looked up, the sun was just peeking over the horizon, one last show of existence, before slipping underneath the purview of the sea. In its place, moonlight dripped into the room, coaxing Killian to get some sleep.

As quietly as he could, Killian trailed up the stairs, his gaze falling on Emma’s bed. Killian wished she was in it waiting for him. He’d scoop her into his arms and dig his face into her hair, simply letting her presence cool the burning inside his chest.

Her pillow was a poor substitute, but it still smelled like her - cinnamon and wildflowers. His mind played back all the times she told him she loved him until the cloudy veil of sleep folded over him.

A million images flashed before his eyes at once, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not look away. _You deserve this,_ a voice in his head told him, one that sounded much like his own. _You deserve every ounce of pain this world gives you._ He saw it all at once, and over hundreds of years, an eternal spring of every wrong he’d ever done, every wrong done to him.

His mother’s cold hand underneath a blood stained sheet, his father’s guilty eyes the night before he abandoned them, Liam’s look of disappointment the time he gambled away every cent they spent years earning, the sea swallowing his brother’s dead body in his depths, Milah’s lifeless eyes, the bloody mess beneath where his left hand used to be...

Each agonized scream of another man he killed, another life lost.

Emma Swan’s beautiful face as the darkness consumed her, as she forced Excalibur into his chest, as she rode away in an elevator in fire hued light.

_You’re nothing but a worthless existence. Not even man. Not worth anyone’s love._

_You are_ nothing _._

Killian screamed, jolting upwards into the cool night air. His lungs clawed for air in short, heavy gasps, heart racing at a million knots a second. All throughout his entire body, he trembled. Harsh, shattering tremors that shook him at his core.

There was still a heavy glaze over his eyesight and a dizziness in his head, but Killian swung himself out of bed.

Water. He needed a glass of water. He needed _something._

He needed Emma.

Moving as unsteady as a man with no bones and sight, Killian worked his way toward the stairs. He choked back what he suspected were tears of shock and anguish.

In the dark haze of the evening, his foot landed wrong on the first step, and he was sent tumbling down the stairs. Each step brought its own impact, sharp and hard. He felt it all over as he plummeted downwards, unable to catch himself.

When he finally rolled onto the floor at the bottom of the staircase, Killian curled into a ball, a slight groan escaping his lips.

“Oh god! Killian!” he heard from the other side of the room. Snow was rushing to his side, helping him sit up with gentle hands and a worried expression.

David was knelt beside them, helping his wife pull the pirate to rest up against her.

“What happened? We heard you fall,” David rushed out.

Killian opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out. He tried again, and this time, instead of silence, a sob escaped his throat.

It all built up inside him, a volcano moments away from erupting. The dam broke and suddenly tears were trailing down his cheeks.

It was too much. Years of being a villain. Weeks of being a Dark One. Days of being dead. Hours of being alone.

Minutes being wrapped in the warm embrace of a mother who wanted nothing more than his happiness. Mary Margaret was not his mother, and she hadn’t liked him until quite recently, but there was something comforting about the way she held onto him, protected him.

She whispered quiet “shhs” into his ear as he turned to dig his forehead into her shoulder. His sobs came out like coughs, mixed with moans and wails.

David had backed off - probably to call Emma - leaving Killian feeling safe in the arms of a woman who was the closest thing he had to a mother.

After he had calmed down, Snow led him to the couch where she laid him down against the cushions, and smoothed out the hair over his head.

“What happened?” she asked in the gentlest motherly voice she could manage.

“I fell down the stairs,” he conceded.

“I noticed that,” she said without a trace of sarcasm. “Before that.”

“I had a nightmare.”

Snow nodded understandably. David came back over with a mug of hot chocolate in his hands (the cinnamon on top reminded him of Emma and it made him want to cry all over again). Killian tried not to feel humiliated as Charming hovered over him while he was in such a weak state.

“You know, it’s okay to need help and to ask for it,” Snow spoke. “You’ve been through alot, and not just recently. Part of being a hero isn’t just battling real-life demons, but also the ones we have inside”

Killian considered this. When Snow looked at him for an answer, he simply nodded and took a sip of his hot chocolate.

“Maybe I should give Hopper a call in the morning,” he murmured into his mug. With a deep breath, Killian placed his drink on the coffee table and strung his lips in a tight smile.

“I’m feeling much better,” he said. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I didn’t mean to cause such a fuss.”

David shrugged.

“You’re family now,” the man said. “You have been for a while. This is what we do. We take care of each other.”

Killian didn’t know how to answer. His eyes softened as tender as his heart. He’d missed out on having parents, but right in that moment, he felt like a silly teenager again who really needed the support of mum and pa.

This time, though, he had family he could count on. Not just fantasies and imagined fancies his mind would create during the long nights alone at sea. Real people, real parents.

And he loved them. He really, _really_ did.

*

Killian awoke in the morning still on the couch. A blanket was draped over his body - Snow, probably, he thought with a smile. The sun poured into the room, making it difficult to see.

He could tell he wasn’t alone when a gentle hand ran through his hair and down his cheek.

"Morning sailor,” his Swan said in a voice so full of love, Killian’s heart swelled.

He couldn’t help but feel ecstatic at her return. A little tired emotionally and physically, but ecstatic.

Sitting up, Killian pulled her into his lap and embraced her.

“Heard you had a rough night,” she murmured into his neck. Killian reached up to stroke her hair, something both of them found equally soothing.

“I’m better now. Your parents took good care of me.”

She stared at him in a way that asked _why didn’t you tell me?_ But Killian simply shook his head. _Another time,_ his eyes answered.

And so Emma pressed a kiss to his mouth, cheek, nose, forehead - and murmured that she loved him more than all the cups of hot chocolate in the world.

She’d ask him what his breakdown was all about, and he’d ask her why she was back in Storybrooke when she should’ve been at a trial, but they’d wait until they’d had their fill of one another.

“You never have to go through anything alone again,” she reminded him. “You have family now. We love you. We all love you.”

Killian had a feeling that his nightmares would be coming less frequently, if at all. He had a family now, and if there was one thing he was absolutely sure of it, it was that he was theirs and they were his.

 


End file.
